Behind Closed Doors
by 2sidedstoryteller29995
Summary: What really went on at the Quidditch World Cup 2014? Nothing is certain except that nothing is as it seems. Secrets will be revealed and friendships tested in the Patagonian Desert!
1. Unbelievable: Harry & Ginny

**A/N: This story contains the occasional (mild) swear word and plenty of Skeeter-bashing. Before reading this it is necessary to read Rita Skeeter's Gossip Column on Pottermore. **

"_Yeah you can have a word," said Harry savagely. "Good-bye." ― Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

Ginny threw down the _Daily Prophet Gossip Column _in disgust. She was almost shaking with anger. "I can't believe her! How can that lying, cheating, gossiping hag call herself a reporter? She's vermin, that's what she is!"

"I agree with you Gin, you know I do, but must you get so worked up about it?" Harry murmured from the sofa.

"I'm not getting worked up over it for my sake, Harry. I knew what I was getting into when I married you." She sighed. "I'm more worried about Teddy. He didn't ask for this, he hasn't done anything except exist. He was a baby all of this started and now..."

_Now he's becoming a man and he can't even do that without ending up in the papers! _

"What goes on between himself and Victoire is his own private business. He's didn't even get the chance to tell us and that cow had to go and tell the whole world!" Harry thought it over.

"You know," he said slowly. "Teddy's almost a grown man and I think he's more than capable of dealing with the fallout." He chuckled. "I don't think the article is going to make any difference to them. If anything, they'll probably go at it harder just to spite her."

"You're probably right," she admitted. "I shouldn't let it get to me." Harry certainly was not. He did not see the point. He was on holidays, after all. "Just three more days, three more days and you won't have to look at another copy of _The Daily Prophet _for three whole weeks." Ginny smiled at the thought.

"It's not that I mind working, especially now that you're all here. The thing that bugs me is that people forget that the real reason why we're here- to just play Quidditch." It baffled her how anyone could be more interested in the reporters than the game itself. She would love nothing more than to just be able to concentrate on the game. Yet, sometimes other things just seemed to get in the way.

She loved the Quidditch World Cup. She had been lucky enough to get the chance to play on the English National team in 2002 and had the pleasure of reporting during every Cup since. She had been pregnant with Albus back in '06 and she credited his being such a huge fan of Quidditch to the fact that he had been there when Burkina Faso beat France. Back then, James had been too small to understand Quidditch so he had stayed with her parents during the weekend of the final. Then in 2010, though Lily had been quite young, when _The Prophet _asked her to cover the Cup, Harry had insisted that she do it. Surprisingly, he had managed pretty well- with some help from her parents.

At least this year, though she knew she was still going to miss them very much, she was a little more confident that there wouldn't be many problems while she was away. She had been right. By all accounts, the kids were on their best behaviour- bribed somewhat by the Cup tickets and the holiday the family had planned once it was all over. The only one who got into trouble was Harry. He had sustained an injury while working a case.

* * *

Aurors were highly trained and capable of dealing with all sorts of spells and situations. However, even they couldn't be asked to defend themselves against spells they had never encountered before.

After trying all possible defence mechanisms, to no avail, he ran. His counter curse made impact, just as the jet of blue light hit his cheek. It immediately set to work burning through his skin like acid, reducing his cheek, jawbones and teeth to almost nothing. The pain was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

The team at St. Mungo's had worked round the clock for four days and nights to counteract the curse and reconstruct his face. Harry was joined in the Hospital Wing with several other colleagues. Ginny had been horrified to hear this, but relatively speaking their injuries were fairly minor. The majority of the counter curses cast had made impact. Every single one of the criminals in question were being treated at the hospital too. Their injuries were extremely serious and if they recovered, they were to be tried for their crimes.

Ron had sent her a letter, telling her that Harry had suffered an injury, while working on a major case, but that he was on the mend. He said that Harry hoped to be well enough to see her on the sixth as planned. When he arrived, she saw the scar. The team at St. Mungo's really had done an excellent job and for that Ginny was grateful. He looked no worse for wear, except for the cut where the curse had first made impact.

She knew, from what he had told her that it could have been much worse. For once, she was glad that Harry insisted on such a large amount of fitness training and reflex testing for the members of his department- himself included. She was certain that if he hadn't run when he did, the curse could have hit elsewhere, causing irreparable damage.

* * *

"Are you alright?" She asked him. He had kept his promise, arriving yesterday morning, newly discharged, with their three children in tow. He had explained everything to her, and even though he didn't look too bad, she couldn't help but keep asking him how he was doing. She hated to see him injured and she felt guilty for not having been there through it all. However, Harry didn't hold it against her. In fact, he had said that he was glad she hadn't seen him in the state he had been a few days earlier.

"I've never been better. Would you like me to put it in writing? Have an official press release done out?"

"Okay, forgive me for not being the callous wife I'm made out to be by the media." Harry raised his eyes to heaven jokingly. "I'll live. I'm a few grey hairs short of a deathbed just yet."

"Grey haired my arse! Even that Skeeter woman can't deny, you're still attractive to warrant a huge number of screaming female fans throwing themselves at you." She walked over and kissed his good cheek.

"What do you reckon Lily, do I look alright?" He turned to his daughter who was curled up beside him, looking through the newspaper.

_If he wants honesty, he will certainly get it from her. _At five years old, Lily was honest to a fault. "That cut is ugly, but other than that you look the same as you always do." Of course, Harry had more than one mark on his face, but Lily considered the scar on his forehead as much a part of him as his eyes. Ginny doubted there was any living soul who had known him at any age when his face was scar-free.

Lily wasn't quite old enough to understand why her father was instantly recognised whenever they ventured into Diagon Alley. She simply knew that he had done a great service to Wizardkind.

However, despite her tender age she was a Quidditch fanatic. She loved anything to do with the game and even though she was unable to play it, she was an extremely enthusiastic supporter. Before the tournament began, she had chosen to support Bulgaria. In the beginning, everyone said that Bulgaria would not make it very far in the competition. They said that Krum was too old. But that didn't change the fact that Krum and the whole team were amazing players. Ever since they arrived, she had been wearing red in support of her team.

However, of course, that wasn't enough. "Mum now that you're finished talking about that woman, can you do my hair?" She slid off the sofa and got down on her knees. Ginny obliged, weaving the colours of the Brazilian flag through the strands of her fiery hair.

"Was I talking about her too much? Sorry Lily, she just gets on my nerves."

"Mum? Can I ask you a question?" When her mother nodded, she went on. "Is she really a cow? I mean, can she turn into one? That would be a cool disguise, but surely, the people here would notice..." Ginny had to abandon her hair, she was laughing so hard. The image of a Jersey cow wandering around a campsite in the Patagonian Desert was enough to reduce both her and Harry to tears.

* * *

Eventually, she came to her senses, but thankfully, they were spared having to answer the question by the arrival of the boys. Both were tousle haired and bleary eyed from sleep. They stood there in their Chudley Cannon pajamas looking confused.

After surveying the scene for a moment, James decided it was time to speak up. "Mum, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry boys, we didn't mean to wake you. Lily just said something Daddy and I thought was funny, that's all."

Albus piped up. "But we woke up earlier, when we heard loud voices."

James joined in then, eager to get to the bottom of what was going on "Yeah, you said something about not being able to believe..." Ginny glanced at her husband, who brought the situation out of dangerous territory by thinking on his feet.

"That was me, we were just talking about the final: I said 'I can't believe Albus is supporting Brazil!' James burst out laughing. As always, he and his little brother were supporting opposing teams. They could never agree on anything.

Harry was supporting Bulgaria too. As a reporter, Ginny was supposed to be unbiased but she could not help wishing that Krum would get a chance to fulfill his life's ambition.

Upon hearing this, Albus was outraged. He proceeded to give them a full run-down on the Brazilian team, especially the chaser Gonçalo Flores. James and Lily took it upon themselves to defend Bulgaria, sparking a whole discussion. Ginny was impressed at their knowledge and proud to see that they were taking such an interest. Devoted fans and skilled teams were at the heart of the Quidditch World Cup.

_I can't believe I was going to let one stupid reporter get in the way of what really matters. _


	2. Surprising: Ron & Hermione

**A/N: Some might consider this chapter pointless, I consider it a warm-up. I wrote it because I love ****Romione. Also, because I don't like to launch into things too fast.**

_"My parents don't read the Daily Prophet. She can't scare me into hiding! And Hagrid isn't hiding anymore! He should never have let that excuse for a human being upset him!"- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

Ron threw down _The Daily Prophet Gossip Column _with a sigh. Hermione turned to him with a look, which plainly said _I told you so. _It could hardly come as a surprise to him that she had sunk to a new level in terms of invading their privacy. Something similar had happened many times over the years. In this case, as with all the others, the best thing to do would be to ignore it.

"I wish you wouldn't waste your time reading that rubbish."

Ron shook his head. "It's not exactly rubbish though, is it?" Hermione hated to admit it, but he was right. She could have sworn she had seen the day before. Hermione hadn't been too close, but even if she had been, she doubted her silvery-haired niece or blue-haired nephew would have even noticed her. They were far too engrossed with each other.

"My hair is thinning..." He blushed to his roots as he said it, running his hand over his head self-consciously. Hermione snorted.

"I never took you to be vain Ronald. I thought that was more Lockhart's area of expertise." Ron struggled to keep a straight face as he drew himself up to his full height.

"If you look at the evidence, Miss Granger I'm sure you'll find that it is actually a statement of fact." Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing at her husband's impression of a lawyer.

"Mr. Weasley, I'll have you removed from court, if you refuse to be serious."

Ron feigned mock-indignation. "Seriously? Of course, I am taking this seriously! If you must know, I'm very worried about the possibility of my head getting too cold!"

"I'll get knitting then," she quipped.

_It could be worse. I could look like a House-Elf, _he thought

* * *

When their laughter had subsided somewhat, Ron turned to his wife. He had something on his mind and figured that right then was as good as any time to question her. "What about Victor?" _Vicky. _Hermione looked taken aback. She tucked a lock off her bushy brown hair behind her ear before answering. Well aware that her ex-boyfriend was a sensitive subject, she did her best to buy herself some time. To appear nonchalant, as though she hadn't been worried that this might come up.

"What about him?" She wondered.

"I've noticed he's in pretty good shape these days." Feeling uncomfortable, he moved to sit on the floor of the tent, drawing his knees up to his chest as he did so.

"Have you?" Hermione murmured mildly. "I hadn't noticed." She smiled to herself as she thought back to the summer before her fifteenth birthday. Victor Krum had left Ron star-struck. He was his first crush: his man-crush but a crush nonetheless But later that same year Ron started developing feelings for her. Then, his feelings for Krum quickly turned to jealousy.

"I just wondered if _he_ has a wife who knits him hats. Although, come to think of it, I suppose he did always have a high tolerance for the cold, so he probably wouldn't need one anyway." He paused. "Are his kids in the audience, wearing the Bulgarian colours?"

"I honestly wouldn't know Ron. All I know is that _I'm _not knitting him one. All I know is that _our_ children are supporting Brazil. And I don't see why I should read all the Bulgarian celebrity gossip columns, seeing as I'm already in the British ones."

Ron could not agree more.

* * *

Ron was pleased by her answer. So much so that he thought, he might try his luck and see if he could get another one out of her. "Mione..." She glanced up from the current affairs section of _The Daily Prophet_.

"Why are you here?" He asked her. She sighed. _What sort of stupid question was that? _He seemed to realise his mistake and was backtracking.

"I mean, I know you're here to watch the match, but why? It's not like you have any real interest in Quidditch."

Hermione thought about it. _Right you are Ronald. _Throughout her years at Hogwarts, she had fully supported Harry, Ginny, and eventually Ron in their efforts to win Gryffindor the House Cup. She had of course, attended the World Cup in '02 to support Ginny, Angelina and the English team. However, she had not attended either of the subsequent ones, because Rose and Hugo were quite young. She had stayed at home to look after them and let Ron have some time to himself.

"No" she conceded. "I don't." It didn't matter to her who won the match. This was why she planned to wear ordinary robes on Friday. She was not supporting any team in particular. "It matters to you doesn't it?" If the question he had asked earlier was stupid, then this one was worse.

He didn't quite know what to say. He adored Quidditch. He loved nothing more than to attend matches in the Chudley Cannon colours. Every Saturday, he looked at the League Table in _The Daily Prophet, _hoping that his team were doing well. When it came to the World Cup, he was fully behind the English, Welsh, Scottish and Irish teams. If they didn't get through to the final stages, he would change his allegiance. National pride was one thing, but he also took pride in a game well played.

He was almost fully convinced that the love of Quidditch was in his blood. Rose and Hugo felt the same way. His eight-year-old daughter was a formidable force when she was in the air. In the beginning, Hermione had worried about the possibility of her getting hurt, but then she realised it was pointless. It didn't matter how she felt about it, Rose was going to play anyway. Their daughter was stubborn and feisty. Every time Ron looked her way, he felt fiercely proud.

Hugo had been flying for less than a year, and though he was doing really well. Ron was a little reluctant to teach him the rules of Quidditch just yet, because he wanted him to gain some confidence first.

"Don't you like having me here?" she asked.

"I do," he said quickly. "I just wondered..."

She smiled. "You love Quidditch; I love you and our children. You matter to me, so what matters to you matters to me too," she explained. She looked as though she was about to say something else, but as Ron leaned closer suddenly her lips and her mind became otherwise occupied.

_Surprises weren't all bad. _


	3. Out of the Blue: Victoire & Teddy

"_Of course we still want to know you!" Harry said, staring at Hagrid._

_"You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor," he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire _

Teddy Lupin had the misfortune of never being able to recall his dreams. In the past, he had woken up in the middle of the night unable to shake the feeling that recalling them was vital but no matter how hard he tried his brain remained fogged.

After all, how could he be expected to remember dreams about people he could not even remember?

This dream was not about his parents, he was sure of that. Whenever he dreamt of them, though he didn't like to admit it, he always seemed to wake up with tears in his eyes. This time was different. This time he awoke with a grin on his face. For a moment, he lay in bed hoping that he wouldn't have to leave the dream. However, despite his best efforts he only continued to feel more awake. He groaned internally, before opening his chocolate eyes. A moment of confusion followed as he tried to figure out why he was in a tent. It was not until he sat upright that things began to make sense.

Then, the smile that had threatened to slide off his face at the evaporation of the dream, returned bigger and brighter than before. Glancing over to James, he saw with delight that he was still sound asleep.

He leapt at the chance to have a morning all to himself.

Of course, he wouldn't be _really _alone. _That wouldn't be any fun. _

* * *

He slipped out of bed and dressed in a hurry, brushing his teeth but not bothering to give his hair the same treatment. He contemplated making himself breakfast but decided against it. He didn't want to risk waking the Potters and anyway, it was extremely unlikely that he would starve in Victoire's presence.

Every house was different. At The Den, there was a strong possibility James would try to enlist you to help in his latest prank. Whereas at The Roost there was no doubt that, you were going to be roped into playing Quidditch. You didn't have to worry about anything as strenuous as that when you visited The Hollow. While there, it was very likely that you would have to fight to stay awake while Percy informed you of the latest goings on in the Ministry. Once in The Hideaway, George would usually ask you to try out the latest product for the shop. At the Burrow you would leave feeling quite loved, as it was standard procedure for Molly to hug her guests at least twice, in between offering them cups of tea. Vic took after her grandmother in that she was a fantastic cook, always looking for willing tasters.

He could never say no to her.

He was just about to leave when he realised that he had company. A barn owl had just swooped into the tent, carrying the latest addition of _The Daily Prophet. _He took the paper from it, before rooting around in the back pocket of his jeans for money to pay.

He doubled back to his room in search of a quill and a scrap of paper on which to write a quick note. Afterwards, he set off. It pleased him to discover that the sun was shining. The sky was blue, his hair was blue, and the day stretched before him like a blank canvas just waiting to be filled.

* * *

He could do anything he wanted, it was up to him to decide. Despite his earlier intentions, he decided to wait a while before calling on Vic. Seeing as they were in the Patagonian Desert, he figured now was a good time to check up on what the experts were predicting for Friday.

He was surprised to discover that very little of the paper's contents related to the sport of Quidditch. The only news from the Patagonian Desert was Rita Skeeter's Gossip Column. Having grown up around the Potters, Teddy was used to such things. It didn't bother him what any reporter thought of his family, least of all Rita Skeeter. His first reaction was to turn the page but then something made him stop.

Harry had been head of the Auror Office since 2007. He was a skilled Auror and a very powerful man, but if there was one thing you could say with certainty about his Godfather it was that he was not at all vain. He did not like to boast or flaunt. Teddy knew this, but one day he couldn't resist any longer. It was in the time before he left for Hogwarts. He was always on the lookout for advice or information.

Eventually, Harry's turn came. While Teddy went with his grandmother to buy schoolbooks in Diagon Alley, Harry was working a high-profile case. One morning, Teddy came over for breakfast and was glad to see that his Godfather was at home in one piece. Though the case had been solved, the paperwork was still being processed so there wasn't a story in the newspaper. Though to be honest, Teddy wasn't quite so interested in the case itself, but rather how his Godfather seemed to solve so many.

"_I have a great team, I wouldn't get anywhere without them. I think the most important thing to do is to take the advice of people who are older and wiser than you are. I've been given a lot of advice over the years but in all honesty, if you want to succeed as an Auror you need to have constant vigilance and you have to know your enemy." _

That Skeeter woman, who constantly attacked his family, she was the enemy.

Bearing Harry's words in mind, he quickly scanned the article. Something caught his eye. As he continued down through the text, his face turned the colour of milky porridge. He stopped. He stared. He read it again. The words remained the same.

* * *

He felt sick. His stomach lurched, his head spun and he couldn't think straight. There was only one thing on his mind. On autopilot, he stumbled towards Vic's tent, ashen-faced.

When he got there, he was reluctant to enter because he could hear both Victoire and her father. He could not quite make out what they were arguing about but it seemed that neither of them was very happy.

Victoire, looking for any excuse to escape from her Dad, was overjoyed when she heard footfalls outside the tent. She drew back the tent flap and almost pounced on him in her eagerness. He knew instinctively that she had not yet read the article. _She was far too happy..._

She took his hand in hers and dragged him into the tent.

"Teddy! It's so good to see you!" She turned to Bill. "Dad, can you give us some privacy please?" His gaze passed between the two of us. I was not all that sure what was going on. He looked at Victoire for a moment and she stared back. It seemed to me that they were continuing their fight silently. In the end, Vic won out.

"Alright." He looked reluctant. He turned to go, catching Teddy's eye as he did so. The look he gave him sent shivers down his spine. He looked at him long and hard. His mouth was set in a thin line and the scars on his face seemed more prominent than usual. He seemed a very different man to the one he had seen just the day before. All traces of good humour were gone from his visage. He did not say anything. He turned to go, leaving Teddy standing there, shell-shocked.

For a moment, he struggled to comprehend Bill's behaviour. Then it clicked. The message was clear.

_He had read it. _

* * *

Vic caught sight of his face. "Ignore him; he's not a morning person. Neither is Louis, he is still asleep. I swear that boy sleeps more than anyone in our whole family combined!" She laughed nervously.

_He is not the only one. _Teddy wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and discover that it had all been just a dream. Like a sleepwalker, he silently led her over to the sofa. He took a deep breath.

However, she got there first. Her words came out all in a rush. "Teddy, we need to talk."

He looked taken aback. "What do you want to talk about?"

"About this." She reached out and took a copy of _The Daily Prophet _from the coffee table. Relief flooded Teddy's body. He could feel the colour return to his cheeks and to his hair.

"You read it? Oh thank God!" He leapt to his feet and made to pull her up too, but she resisted. "We have to go explain to your Dad, he's probably already told Harry and Ginny, but we can still get the story straight. Not everyone will have read it!"

One look from her silenced him. "Teddy, I need to explain..."

He looked confused. "Why? It's not like actually kissed." She looked uncomfortable.

Then it hit him. _He _had _kissed her! _

She had kissed him back. Their lips had locked, their fingers intertwined, they had fallen asleep in each other's embrace. It had been the perfect night.

It had been the perfect dream.

He had woken up, unable to remember any of it. However, in that moment he was able to recall it with perfect clarity. Along with the recollection of the dream came the realisation that a dream was all it would ever be. He came back down to earth with a bump, drenched in a bucket of cold water.

He tried to collect his thoughts. He tried to make it seem as though nothing was wrong. He tried to concentrate on what she was saying. "...I need you to understand, that I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. He is important to me. He's special."

_Who exactly was so special? _He kept his head down, avoiding her eyes. It was then that I saw what she held in her other hand. It was a photograph, but not just any old photograph. A blue-haired adolescent male stared back at him. His golden eyes seemed to twinkle mischievously.

He hated his name, he hated his face, he hated his earring, and he hated his guts.

Teddy believed that Adrian Fintwhistle was bad news. She described him as adventurous, funny and kind. He was fifteen. He had not done his OWLs yet, but he had been up in front of the Wizengamot twice for using magic outside school. He did not care about education, believing he was going to do more with his life than sit a classroom taking exams. He was passionate about the welfare of magical creatures; he wanted to be a journalist. He was opposed to authority and liked to do things his own way.

Bill was very protective of his daughter. All the boys in her year knew that she was forbidden fruit. Adrian went and had her anyway. He was fond of dragging her out after dark, so they could be alone together.

Teddy wasn't the only one Victoire wanted to keep her secret. She had served detention with Professor Longbottom for her antics, but Adrian never came out from behind the bush.

"He's in too much trouble at the school already," she confessed. Professor Longbottom said that he would not say anything to her parents as long as it never happened again. No matter how much she wanted to, she could not tell her parents about their relationship.

"They think I'm too young to be dating anyone and if they ask Uncle Harry to do a background check, his record isn't exactly squeaky clean. We were thinking of waiting until after the summer. I'll be in fourth year then and he'll have a clean slate." When she saw the look on her friend's face, she hurried to continue.

"He's a good guy, Teddy. I know him better than anyone does. He is not as everyone makes him out to be. He is different. He's a got a bright future." She obviously seemed to think that future was with her.

He opened his mouth to try to convince her that she could do better, but she was already moving on. "I need your help. I would not be asking if it wasn't necessary. You're the only one who can help us." For a moment, he was perplexed, but then the penny dropped.

He could never say no to her.

* * *

He never said yes either. Not trusting himself to speak, he simply nodded. He would go along with the plan, but there would be no need for him to pretend to like her. He already did. He would pretend to be her boyfriend long enough for her parents to grow used to the idea of her dating someone. He just hoped that by that time he would have grown used to the idea that _they _could never date.

* * *

In the course of less than twenty-four hours, everything had changed. When Teddy slipped into bed that night he felt like a completely different person to the one he had been that morning. His hair was the exact shade of the sky outside the window, his eyes were golden-brown, and his heart was heavy.

"_You're such a good friend!" _Those were her exact words. That was all she thought of him as. He knew in his heart that it was not true. _Good friends_ _did not keep secrets from each other. _

_He was not even a good person. _

Good people did not lie awake at night, wishing that for once, Rita Skeeter were right about something.

_Her revelation had been totally out of the blue. It hit him hard, like a smack in the mouth and made him feel pain in places he didn't know he could._


	4. Unexpected: Neville & Hannah

"_My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me- he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I almost drowned but nothing happened until I was eight"- Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

Neville Longbottom had always been a little slow. He was not a stupid person. He just took his time. He didn't started talking properly until he was almost three years old. The advancement of his speech had been a cause of great relief to his grandmother. Up until then, she had been worried that his inability to verbalise had something to do with the physiological effect of never knowing his parents' love.

Then, as he grew up she worried about the fact that he wasn't showing signs of magical ability. She did not think he had any magic in him at all, until the incident when he was eight years old. Going off to Hogwarts on that first day, he had been a pudgy little boy clutching a toad. He remained that way for several years. He was fifteen before he made _real _friends. He was sixteen before he hit puberty.

The war made him a man. By the time it ended, he was much older and wiser. War is proof of the fragility of life. This encouraged him to make his living protecting the weak and the innocent after finishing at Hogwarts. He loved being an Auror however in the end it wasn't his vocation. It took him over nine years to realise this. It took him a further two years to rediscover his true passion; Herbology.

He didn't marry until he was thirty-two years of age. Though this was relatively young, in comparison to many of his classmates, he married rather late in life.

At the ripe old age of thirty four, he was still fighting his demons. He was still batting to keep his anxiety at bay. He was still struggling to fit in.

* * *

Of course, he didn't mention any of this to Hannah. He just told her that he would be along in a minute.

She knew. He was certain of that. He was indecisive at the best of times, but even he wouldn't have that much trouble picking out a pair of robes. She knew him.

As he slipped his arms through the sleeve, he struggled to keep his fingers steady and his breathing even. When he looked in the mirror, he was surprised at what he saw. He had half been expecting to see a frightened schoolboy instead of a fully grown man.

But he was in fact, an adult. The situation he found himself in only proved as much. There was nowhere to run and hide. He had no choice; he had to face the music.

* * *

The closer Neville got to the tent, the louder the sound from within became. However, this did nothing to drown out the sound of his beating heart.

There was no music, save for the tinkle of many voices. Several people called out to him, but he did not respond. He was too busy searching for Hannah. He needed her. There was no way he could do it without her. He wasn't even sure if he could do it at all.

Relief flooded his body as he spotted her in the centre of the room with several other members of the Dumbledore's Army. She smiled when she saw him, lacing her fingers through his. Their eyes locked and for a moment it seemed as though they were the only people in the room. _Are you okay? _

After a moment's hesitation, he gave a slow nod. _Yeah. _

Then, after a moment, Hermione's voice broke the spell. "There you are Neville! For a second there, we wondered where you'd gotten to."

She turned to Ginny. "I think it must be a man thing. Whenever we're going somewhere, Ron just can't seem to decide what to wear. He's like a child!"

Ginny laughed, nodding in agreement. "Harry's the same, he is always humming and hawing, making us late. I don't really mind though, I hate going to parties almost as much as he does."

This statement was certainly true. Harry detested any sort of formal get- together. It was always the same and he never had any fun. The media would swarm around like bees to a hive and he never got a moment to himself. If he wasn't being asked for an interview, he was being introduced to some Head of State. Formal parties were far too tedious. He much preferred a more casual gathering; like the one they were hosting that evening. There was no particular start time or finish time. The one thing that they were quite strict about was the guest list. Not that there was an actual list, no it was far too impromptu for that. The only people who knew it was happening were those that the Potters knew and liked. That way, they wouldn't have to pretend to enjoy themselves.

"That's true, but to be fair Neville's not that late. He's not even the last one to arrive. We're still waiting for another couple; Teddy and Vic. Nobody has seen hide nor hair of them today. We think they're laying low."

"I don't think so," Ron reasoned. "I hardly think they'd have time to care about what Skeeter wrote, seeing as they're so preoccupied with each other They're probably just in a dark corner somewhere."

Neville smiled, thinking of the incident at the end of the year. _Maybe they're behind a bush._

"Or, maybe they're planning their elopement," George suggested.

"Knowing them, they won't get into any trouble. But I still think I'll go search for them if they're not back by nine-thirty. I wouldn't usually, but with Bill on the warpath..." Neville needed no further explanation.

Victoire Gabrielle Weasley was a triple threat. She was a member of the Weasley family, with French roots and Veela charms. She was beautiful, exotic and famous. As Head of Gryffindor House and a friend of her family, Neville knew her better than most. She was a lovely girl, a teacher's dream. Though she had been sorted into Gryffindor, she had a Hufflepuff's determination, a Slytherin's ambition, and a Ravenclaw's intellect.

She had never given any teacher in the school an ounce of trouble, well at least up until recently. It was obvious that Teddy was the one to blame for her late-night antics.

She was the eldest of twelve grandchildren. Her Dad was bound to be protective of her. This expectation, linked with the fact that her father had been bitten by a werewolf during the war meant that most of the boys in second, third and fourth year knew that it was best to keep their distance.

Of course, anyone who knew Bill well knew that he hadn't been bitten on the full moon. He wasn't a true werewolf. He did not transform once a month. The only ruminants of the attack were his 'wolf-like tendencies.' Wolves were family- orientated and so it was only natural that Bill would be a little more protective than most.

Victoire Weasley was like the Forbidden Forest; she was off-limits to anyone who did not wish to die a slow and painful death.

"You didn't see them sneaking around on your way over, did you?" Harry asked. Neville shook his head. He had been so caught up in his own world, it could have been raining Galleons and he wouldn't have noticed.

"I think I will go look for them after a while. It'll be easier if I'm the one that find them." Neville supposed it was understandable, for Bill to be angry with them both. On top of everything else, reading a gossip column was not the best way to find out that your daughter was dating your nephew.

Ron almost seemed to read his mind. "If it wasn't for Skeeter, things wouldn't be half as bad."

Hermione agreed. "Everywhere she goes, she causes trouble." She had been a pain in the neck for the last twenty years.

Ginny looked thoughtful. "I actually got a bit of a laugh out of it, once I'd calmed down." As she spoke, she cast her eyes around the room. It wasn't long before she spotted Luna, in her very distinctive flag-patterned robe. The lack of music did not deter her from dancing Hugo around the room with great gusto. The one thing about Luna was that she did everything for a reason. There was always a reason, albeit an odd one.

Rita Skeeter was the worst sort of person. Her only reason for doing the things she did, was to cause trouble.

From what he saw, Luna was not at all on-edge about the gossip column. It was understandable, given that she spent so little time in the UK these days anyway. They would be going abroad again at summers' end. Her Dad was getting older now and she felt it was important for her little boys to spend as much time with him as possible. No reporter was going get in the way of that.

* * *

Neville had to admire her for her attitude. She was always so calm and collected, be in the face of newly discovered species, or gossipy reporter.

He couldn't say the same for himself.

"What was your first reaction?" Ginny asked.

_Brave girl_, he thought.

For all her bravery, he was not quite sure how to answer her. "Er..." Thankfully, Hannah rescuedhim.

"I thought it was very funny. I mean, a bartender with an alcohol problem. It is not very inventive. She must be losing her touch!" Everyone laughed.

"So there's no truth to it then?" Neville could not even pretend to be surprised. He didn't blame them for being curious. The sale of _The Leaky Cauldron _had been recent, sudden, and –for the most part- unexplained.

"No, there isn't I'm afraid." Her answer was short and to the point.

"You have no plans to enter the healing profession?" Hermione asked. Like Neville, she had found her true vocation later in life. After leaving Hogwarts, she worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for six years, before eventually transferring to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She knew very well that the profession you started out in wasn't necessarily the one you finished in.

She shook her head. "Not in this life, anyway."

"That's too bad. I think you would have been suited to it. You have a very caring nature." A shy smile of gratitude followed this comment.

"So, now that you aren't living at _The Leaky Cauldron_, will you live at Hogwarts instead?" While everyone was almost certain that their friends weren't headed for a rehabilitation centre, they knew that _something _was going on.

"Close enough to it. We've placed a bid on a little place in Hogsmeade."

"It's actually not that little. It has four bedrooms." There was a beat of silence. Then, slowly they put two and two together and got four. Or rather, put two people together and got three.

"You're...?" Ginny let the words hang in the air, afraid that she had come to the wrong conclusion.

"Yes. We're pregnant!" The smile on her face said it all.

The real reason Hannah found Rita's Skeeter article to be so funny was because she could appreciate the irony of it. At present, she could not drink alcohol. Not only was she not supposed to, it turned her stomach. On top of that, the only reason she had been at St. Mungo's and later at The Hospital Wing in Hogwarts, was to discuss her current medical needs.

Of course, just because she couldn't drink alcohol didn't mean that Neville was abstaining from it. In fact, on the night that she told him, he had a large Firewhiskey to combat the shock.

* * *

Rita Skeeter's article may have been ironic, but the reaction of their closest friends was certainly not. Neville and Hannah's announcement was quickly followed by much hugging, squealing, backslapping, and the offering of countless congratulations.

Neville had not been expecting it. He wasn't sure what he thought would happen, but he hadn't thought they would react as they did. Hell, they reacted better than _he _did.

When the woman moved away, Ron edged closer. As he hugged his friend, he whispered "welcome to the club."

As they pulled apart, Neville murmured, "what club?"

Ron was incredulous. "The Perfect Parents Club, of course. I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it. It's very elite. In fact, there's no one it." It was a moment before Neville understood, but when he did, he smiled properly for the first time that day.

Ron went on, "If we actually had a club, I think it would be called "The trying your best not to make too many mistakes club."

"Sounds like fun," he quipped.

"It's terrifying is what it is." He looked as though he was about to say something else, but then he stopped. "I would describe to you what it's like, if I had the time, but I don't. As you can see, duty calls." Neville's gaze followed Ron's finger. On the ground, he saw Rose and James involved in some sort of wrestling match.

He hadn't even realised that they were fighting. He thought that perhaps Ron had some a built in Dad-radar. Ron turned to his best friend and fellow parent. "Are you coming?"

Harry winked at Neville. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." They moved forward as though heading into battle, wands held high. Neville watched amazed, as Ron pulled them apart. Harry picked up his son bodily and carried him away, putting a safe distance between them.

They soon learned that the fight had come about when the cousins started talking about whether single-sex Quidditch teams were best, and if so, which sex.

Then came the tough part; getting them to apologise. After much explanation, it was agreed that James should never have said that boys were better at fighting than girls. Nor should he have fought with his cousin or mentioned the ease with which he could probably beat up his baby sister.

For a while, it did not look as though he would apologise. However, when Harry suggested that he call over Ginny and tell her what he had done, he said sorry very quickly.. He knew very well that where his mother was concerned, size was no guarantee of power. She was not a woman to cross.

Rose accepted the apology, with a prompt from her Dad and the fight was over, as quickly as it started. The two of them returned in one piece. "We got lucky. Sometimes it's much worse."

He found himself asking aloud, "does that happen often?" Ron and Harry exchanged a look.

"Every day is different. Every child is different. There is only one thing that stays the same. The fear is constant. Just when you've gotten used to being at one stage, you're forced to move to another." Neville gulped and glanced anxiously over at Hannah.

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I'm afraid. I'm worried I'm going to be a rubbish Dad."

"Good. We'd be worried about you if you weren't."

* * *

"You don't look it," he commented. "You don't look like you're even the least bit afraid."

Harry smiled, as though Neville had just told him that he didn't look his age. "At least that's something. Four kids later and I'm finally getting the hang of it."

Ron went on. "They smell fear, like dogs. When you're with them, you can't let on that you don't have a clue what you're doing," Ron explained. Harry nodded absently, but his mind was elsewhere. He had just spotted Victoire and Teddy moving through the tent.

_Looks like he's about to get some more practice. _

* * *

"Hey Harry." Teddy greeted his Godfather. He avoided his gaze slightly and his cheeks were pink, however he managed to maintain his hair colour

"Hello Teddy. Did you have a nice day?"

He sneaked a glance at Vic. "We did."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. You're probably hungry. There is butterbeer and snacks in the corner." They both nodded, but showed no signs of leaving.

"Professor?" Teddy turned Neville. "We just heard the news. I just wanted to say congratulations."

Victoire smiled. "Sir, if you are half as good a parent as you are a Herbology teacher, then your child will be lucky to have you as a Dad."

Neville beamed.

_The comment, like so many other things recently, was quite unexpected. However, that didn't make it any less welcome. _


End file.
